


Let Me Kiss Your Doc Martens (Your Every Wish I Will Obey)

by zade



Series: kinktober 2018 (the kinkening) [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Dom/sub, First Kiss, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Kink Negotiation, Kinktober, Laughter During Sex, Leather Kink, M/M, Mild Painplay, Miscommunication, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Scent Kink, boot licking, dumb boys in love, post scene though, this is like 1/3 kink negotiation im not kidding you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 19:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zade/pseuds/zade
Summary: It’s not that Grantaire meant to say it.  He had been so taken aback by Enjolras actually asking him for something that the words had just sprung unbidden from his mouth, like a fountain of poorly thought out word choices.  “Anything,” he said, “I’ll black your boots.”Enjolras, in surprisingly cheerful form had snorted and said, “I doubt you have shoe polish in your bag.”Which was fine, actually friendly for the two of them, and then Grantaire had promptly ruined it by letting his mouth flap without his brain’s input again.  With a frankly lascivious wink he said,  “I’ve been told I’m pretty good with my mouth.”--kinktober filth because this line has been haunting me for years





	Let Me Kiss Your Doc Martens (Your Every Wish I Will Obey)

**Author's Note:**

> this is serving as my fill for the 25th and 26th bc it's fucking long, for the prompts: boot worship, scent kink and laughter
> 
> it contains: so much negotiation oh my god, boot licking, blow jobs, mild pain play, mild leather kink, (mild safewording post scene) aftercare??? idk.
> 
> title from rent bc im an asshole. enjolras is wearing docs bc i honestly can't imagine him in any other boots?
> 
> PSA: USE A CONDOM. THIS ASSHOLE DON'T BECAUSE I FORGOT FOR A SECOND AND WAS TOO LAZY TO ADD IT AFTER BUT PLEASE USE A CONDOM AND PRETEND THEY DID TOO

It’s not that Grantaire meant to say it. He had been so taken aback by Enjolras actually asking him for something that the words had just sprung unbidden from his mouth, like a fountain of poorly thought out word choices. “Anything,” he said, “I’ll black your boots.”

Enjolras, in surprisingly cheerful form had snorted and said, “I doubt you have shoe polish in your bag.”

Which was fine, actually friendly for the two of them, and then Grantaire had promptly ruined it by letting his mouth flap without his brain’s input again. With a frankly lascivious wink he said, “I’ve been told I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

Enjolras had choked, blushing, and had stammered an excuse to leave. Which, while mortifying, but also was less mortifying than the list of other things he could have done, like ask Grantaire what he had actually meant, or disagree with Grantaire’s assertion.

Grantaire didn’t see Enjolras for two blissful days after that, which made it easier to forget Grantaire had shoved his entire foot in his mouth in front of Enjolras, and then cracked a sex joke about it. That really should have been that.

(It wouldn’t have been. Enjolras could hardly sleep that night and consented, without complaint, when Combeferre suggested they buy him better footwear than his no longer fully intact converse. Every boot he tried on, he imagined Grantaire kissing up the toe, then glancing at him, wide-eyed and mesmerized like he got sometimes in meetings, like he really thought Enjolras was some sort of deity. 

But Grantaire didn’t know any of that.)

Grantaire might have been able to recover from it, though, if Grantaire hung out with people who were very different from fashion obsessed (though arguably, challenged) Jehan and Courfeyrac, both of whom immediately oohed when Enjolras walked through the door.

“New kicks!” Courfeyrac had proclaimed, drawing Grantaire’s eyes to Enjolras’ shoes, a pair of matte black docs, which wouldn’t have been an issue if it wasn’t for Grantaire’s big stupid mouth and the things that his big stupid mouth had said.

Enjolras caught him looking, and got so comically flustered that he had tripped on a table and ended up sprawled in Marius’s lap, prompting the whole group to laugh, while Grantaire hid his blushing face in his hands and wished for the sweet embrace of death.

Enjolras recovered, chuckled graciously, as though forgiving them for laughing at his expense, and called the meeting to order, fastidiously avoiding Grantaire’s eyes. He had opted to stand on a table, this time, to make up for his lack of height, which put his docs directly in Grantaire’s eye-line. Enjolras’s face stayed red the whole meeting, which somehow made Grantaire feel worse.

It wasn’t like Enjolras knew that Grantaire was having very vivid daydreams of licking up the sides of his boots; if Enjolras was embarrassed still, it was probably about tripping onto Marius. Insensible as it was, Grantaire sort of hoped he was the reason for Enjolras’s distress, as terrible as that might be. He wanted to be why Enjolras bought the boots, on his mind every time he laced them, and there take them off of Enjolras with his teeth each night, before he—

“Grantaire, are you even listening?” Enjolras’s voice was strong as ever, but he was staring very obviously at the wall above Grantaire’s head.

“As always, dear leader, fret not,” Grantaire replied with a smirk, hoping sheer bluster would cover the fact that not only had he not been listening, but also he’d worked himself half hard imaging himself drooling on Enjolras’s boots. It probably had nothing to do with him, he reasoned. 

Enjolras had probably just needed new boots.

He had decided to leave as soon as the meeting was over, wanting to avoid having to engage with Enjolras, but Enjolras cut him off at the door. “We should talk,” he said, and led Grantaire into the backroom. Grantaire’s friends were terrible friends, because they saw the frantic eyes he was making at them and did nothing.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Enjolras said as soon as they were away from the others. “It occurred to me that standing on the table in there could have been seen as me mocking you for what you said the other day, and that was not my intention.”

“It’s fine,” Grantaire said, because he was at a loss for what else to say. “I am likewise sorry if I offended you? Or your sensibilities?”

Enjolras’s face went red again. “I wasn’t _offended_ ,” he said, sounding somehow irritated and petulant and uncomfortable in one. “I just wish you wouldn’t joke like that all the time. It makes it…difficult to say when you’re telling the truth.”

“I’m always telling the truth,” Grantaire said without thinking, because apparently his brain had decided that it wasn’t going to work around Enjolras anymore.

Enjolras frowned. “So when you offered to black my boots with your _tongue_ , that was—”

“An offer that I should have absolutely kept to myself.” Grantaire tried his best to mold his face into an apologetic smile, but there was something way worse than he had counted on in publicly acknowledging his dumb feelings, and he was struggling to make his face obey him.

Enjolras swallowed audibly, face inscrutable. “And if, hypothetically, that was an offer I wanted to take you up on?”

Grantaire’s mind went blank. He stared at Enjolras for a long moment and considered asking him if this was the worst prank he had ever been the butt of. “Hypothetically,” Grantaire said slowly, hoping that the words would make more sense as he said them. “Hypothetically, I would say this is something we should discuss in private.”

“But would you, hypothetically, be interested?” Enjolras lips were quirked into something more like a smile, though it still had an air of inscrutability about it, and Grantaire couldn’t keep himself from glancing anxiously at the door, like one of their friends was about to jump out and yell, “Surprise, this is the worst joke anyone’s ever played on you!”

“I would be hypothetically interested in having this conversation somewhere else,” Grantaire finally settled on, hoping it was not too pathetic.

Enjolras nodded decisively. “All right. I have class all day tomorrow, but we could meet in two days? And discuss this some more? Or maybe we could skip to—”

“Yes, yes, yes, we can talk in two days,” Grantaire said, bulldozing over Enjolras, before he suggested something heinous and tempting, like skipping negotiation and skipping directly to Grantaire putting his mouth on Enjolras’s docs. “Let’s meet at your place, great, good, excellent, see you then.” Grantaire bolted, needing to be away from Enjolras as soon as possible. He was worried the drool would start to show.

Grantaire sort of thought that it would be the end of that. He hoped, obviously, that Enjolras had genuine intentions towards Grantaire, or at least towards Grantaire’s mouth, but it didn’t feel likely based on every interaction they had ever had before that week. Unless, Enjolras’s standoffishness had just been an inability to flirt, in which case—no, Grantaire didn’t have the ability to think that through.

He spent a lot of time, thinking, too. About whether he could just hook up with Enjolras without it hurting too much, if it would be better to just let the opportunity pass him by. Grantaire knew he couldn’t, though. He was weak, and if there was any chance Enjolras wanted anything to do with him, he was going to capitalize on it. Still, Grantaire didn’t think he would actually get the chance.

He was shocked, then, when Enjolras texted him two days later.

Enjolras: Hey, you free this afternoon?

It took Grantaire a solid minute of staring at his phone before he could manage to write: yes.

Standing in front of Enjolras’s door, Grantaire was sure he had made a huge mistake, of the monumental-you-can-never-get-past-this kind. Then the door swung open.

Enjolras stood there in sweat pants and a thin white t-shirt, looking breathless and beautiful and poised with anticipation. He smiled, and gestured Grantaire in to his apartment, and Grantaire went, like a moth to the flame.

Enjolras directed him to the couch, then sat opposite, tucking both of his legs onto the seat. He looked small here, less intimidating and more intimate, which scared the shit out of Grantaire.

“So,” Enjolras said slowly, dragging the word out like taffy. “Let’s forget hypotheticals, how do you feel practically about licking my boots?”

“Positively,” Grantaire said, and it took all his will power not to run out the door and escape back into the warm embrace of his bed and a bottle of Jack. “If you feel positively, and understand that this will be at the very least borderline sexual and are cool with that, then I am also cool with it.”

Enjolras nodded decisively. “Okay. Yes. Same page. How do we go about doing this?”

Grantaire steadied himself, trying to practice the meditative breathing that Jehan had been trying to teach him for actual years. This was more like what he had assumed, anyway, and Grantaire had done more than a little sex education in his time, so he was at least as prepared for this as he had ever been for a test. “Okay, how much do you know about kink? Planning scenes? Anything like that?”

Enjolras’s face got red, but he stiffened, trying to come across knowledgeable when he said, “I’ve looked some things up. But if you’re asking if I have first hand experience in it, then no.”

Grantaire nodded. He scooted in a little closer to Enjolras, and Enjolras shot him a grateful look, before schooling his features back into curious-neutral, like a cat. But Grantaire had seen it, seen a flicker of comfort, which meant Enjolras cared which meant—nope. It meant that he and Enjolras were going to do a scene they both wanted to do and that would be that. 

“Okay. First, let’s establish what we want to do, and then go from there. In this case, I’m going to be subbing—or acting subordinately, or, umm, bottoming kinkily. Aaaand you’re going to domming or topping or whatever term makes you feel comfortable. Related: do you have anything you want to be called? And I’m going to lick your boots. Preferably on my knees.”

Enjolras nodded fervently, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yes. To all of that. Good. Great. And my name? If that’s fine.”

“Of course that’s fine.” Grantaire reached out, cautiously, and Enjolras took his hand like that was something they _did_. He supposed that hand-holding was pretty tame considering the what they were planning. “Great, now the details.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said, and his grip on Grantaire tightened for some reason that Grantaire literally couldn’t fathom. “More details?”

“So many more details. For example, I am super on board to lick the fuck out of your leather, but am significantly less jazzed about the prospect of the soles.” The shoes in question were lying innocuously on the mat near the door, new and clean and sort of taunting, in a way that gave Grantaire an anticipatory half-chub. 

Enjolras’s expression implied that he had honestly never considered that, but now that the image was in his head, he couldn’t survive without Grantaire on his knees before him, licking at the bottom of his shoes. “What if I clean them?” he asked, voice surprisingly stable.

Grantaire swallowed hard, trying to envision that version of the scene without having a stroke. “How clean are we talking?”

Enjolras blew out a puff of breath, considering. “Combeferre’s idea of clean.”

As much as he wanted that, too, to be literally under Enjolras’s shoe, he didn’t want to make himself sick. “Make it Joly’s idea of clean and you got yourself a deal.”

Enjolras nodded his head vigorously, immediately consenting to Grantaire’s terms which made his heartache, a little, but he was having trouble remembering all the reasons it was bad to hook up with someone you had feelings for, who didn’t reciprocate them. “Anything else?” 

Grantaire waffled, unsure if he should bring up actual sex. But fortune favored the brave or whatever, and Grantaire was willing to go foolishly brave if it got him some fortune or favor. “Do you wanna cum in scene?” he asked in a rush, staring at the spot where their hands connected so he wouldn’t have to watch Enjolras’s face go through whatever transformation it was currently going through.

Enjolras stiffened. “I—yes? Is that not…or, um, do you, uh, do you want to get me off?”

Grantaire nodded, bravely. He would bravely commit to this and then bravely scream into a pillow when he got him. “Yeah. If I’m on my knees to lick your boots, I could really easily suck your cock and I would be extremely down to do that.”

“Yeah. I…yeah.” He paused, and it looked like he was completing a very difficult puzzle in his mind. “Do um, do you want to get off? I could also suck you off?”

It was sort of sweet, seeing Enjolras flustered and out of his element. He was usually so suave and put together and good at words, and Grantaire decided at that moment he was going to have convince Enjolras that they should switch at some point, so he could see if he could make Enjolras babble. 

If they did this more than once. 

“It’ll break the scene, for me, if you reciprocate like that? But if you wanna press the sole of your shoe against my cock while I’m sucking you off, I can get off rubbing against it.” Enjolras was gaping, nodding like he was mesmerized. “You can even press hard, if you like. I like a little pain.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand a little harder, and Grantaire looked up at him shyly, or whatever passed for shy when he had just offered to put someone’s dick in his mouth. “Can I—can I pull your hair?”

“Oh yeah, please do.” Grantaire ran through his personal checklist for other things immediate to the scene. “We really should do a list of compatible kinks at some point. But for this scene: yes to hair pulling, yes to stepping on me in any way you see fit. I’m into humiliation, as long as it’s about me being like, slutty or a cocksucker or whatever, and not about my appearance or intelligence or level of talent.”

Enjolras looked outraged, which did something fluttery to Grantaire’s insides. “Why would anyone—no. Doesn’t matter. Yes, that’s all fine. Aftercare? And red, yellow, green for safety, or…?”

Grantaire laughed. “Oh ho ho, you did read your stuff, didn’t you? That works, and thumbs up or down if my mouth is full. That work for you?” He waited until Enjolras nodded his agreement. “Aftercare wise, closeness is what’s most important for me. Cuddling, being told I did well, and snacks. I’m guessing you don’t know what you’ll need, so we can play that by ear.” Enjolras nodded again and Grantaire ran through the scene in his mind. “Man, normally, I’d request you tie my hands for something like this, because who doesn’t like a little light bondage, but since it’s our first time and my mouth is going to be very full, I think we should leave that out.”

“Next time,” Enjolras said in a rush, and oh—he wanted there to be a next time, too. At least, hypothetically. For all they knew, Enjolras would get a taste of domming Grantaire, and decide to take a vow of celibacy.

“Next time,” Grantaire echoed. “Okay. So. Clean your boots. I’d like to wait, like, at least a day to make sure that you, or, uh, neither one of us wants to back out—”

“I won’t,” Enjolras cut in, as sure and confident as when he spoke in meetings, and boy if that tone didn’t give Grantaire an instant boner. 

“Humor me.” Enjolras nodded reluctantly. “Baller. I don’t have anything tomorrow afternoon, if you’re free, I can come by then.”

Enjolras nodded. “Can’t wait. Do you, uh,” he paused and gave Grantaire a furtive look, then glanced awkwardly at their hands which were still linked. “Do you wanna hang out some, in the mean time? We could watch something.”

Grantaire tried to say no, he really did, because the whole point of waiting was to provide some distance and time for thought, but he was a weak, weak man. “What sort of thing do you have in mind, dear leader?”

“Parks and rec?”

Grantaire spent the next few hours in a daze, dick pressing enthusiastically into his jeans, trying not to lean too closely to Enjolras and failing pretty much entirely. When he finally got ready to leave, Enjolras leaned close, like he was going in for a hug, or maybe even a kiss, and Grantaire froze like a deer in the headlights. Enjolras finally just smiled awkwardly and offered him a wave.

It took all of his impulse control to not go home and jack off with the hand that Enjolras had held, because honestly, that felt a little too creepy.

Grantaire had done this sort of thing many, many times in his life, and he was always a little nerve wracking, but he had never had the sweaty-palms, regretting-every-life-decision feeling of extreme unease that he felt standing in front of Enjolras’s door the next day. He finally gathered the courage to knock, and Enjolras answered it almost immediately. 

He was wearing tight jeans and a black t-shirt, and it shouldn’t be hotter than anything else, but it was. On his feet were his black docs, looking cleaned up, and Grantaire could feel his erection pressing obviously against the crotch of his jeans. Enjolras looked sort of breathless, flushed and grinning. “Hi,” he said, softly. “You want to come in?”

Grantaire was a weak, weak man. 

Inside, Enjolras had cleared a spot, with just a wooden kitchen chair, and on the floor, two stacked and folded towels. Enjolras stood uncomfortably next to the set up, shoulders slightly hunched, but he met Grantaire’s gaze, because of course he did. “Do you still want to do this?”

Grantaire grinned at him. They hadn’t discussed nudity, but Grantaire desperately wanted to naked on his knees, with Enjolras sitting above him, well-dressed and put together. “Hell yeah. Do you want me to get naked, because I would be really fine getting naked.”

Enjolras’s eyes winded in surprise, then he smiled in a way that struck Grantaire as a little flirtatiously. Although, he supposed that imminent cocksucking might engender a little flirting; it probably didn’t mean anything, best to not let his hopes rise with his cock. “That would be perfect.” Enjolras walked briskly over the chair and sat down in it, crossing one leg over the other. He looked aristocratic, sitting tall in the chair, and Grantaire went weak in the knees. “I thought you were getting naked,” he said, sternly, face plastered into the slightly disapproving mask that Grantaire was used to seeing when he had been an ass in meetings. Without breaking character, Enjolras asked, “Green?” and Grantaire’s stomach was filled with butterflies.

“Green,” he replied, stripping down quickly. He folded his clothes, because he couldn’t tell if Enjolras was a stickler for that, but even if he wasn’t, Grantaire wanted to be good for him. Grantaire glanced between Enjolras and the towels, unsure if he should go to his knees or wait for Enjolras to say something—and how was he already spiraling this hard when they had just begun, this was a bad idea wasn’t it—

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, in the same, bored, almost regal tone. “Get on your knees.”

It wasn’t a question. Grantaire fell to his knees before Enjolras and grasped his hands behind his back, looking up Enjolras in what felt like appropriate adoration. It was humiliating being naked and on display, but the good kind that made his cock twitch and made his insides feel warm and squirmy. “Enjolras,” he said, and almost winced at how desperate he sounded, but it was hard to focus on that when Enjolras was right there looking down right imperial in his new boots. 

“Do you want to suck my cock?” Enjolras said coolly, and almost managed to not blush.

“Yes please,” Grantaire said. He could see Enjolras’s hard cock beneath the jeans and he wanted it in his mouth as much as he’d ever wanted anything. This was definitely going to me a mistake, but maybe the kind that included really good orgasms before the crying started.

Enjolras bounced his leg slightly and sneered. “Prove to me that it’s worth it. Show me how good your mouth is.” He gestured with his head to the boot resting on his knee, tan rubber sole staring him in the face.

If that’s how he wanted play, Grantaire could do that, too. He dived in, pressing his tongue flat to the bottoms of Enjolras’s shoes. He could hear Enjolras gasp, but he was fixated on his job, following the treads tightly with the tip of tongue. It tasted like rubber—clean rubber, no less—but Enjolras had walked on this, and Grantaire knew it. He imagined it darker, licking dirt off Enjolras’s shoes to please him, mouth thick with the taste of mud, and he groaned.

Enjolras made a thoughtful noise, almost clinical. “Do you like licking the filth off my boots?”

Grantaire pulled back to say, “I really, really do, Enjolras,” and Enjolras took that opportunity to uncross his legs, putting both feet down in front of Grantaire. Without waiting for Enjolras to give further instruction, Grantaire bent over in half, still gripping his own hands behind his back and began licking the leather. The smell of it was intoxicating; the deep, strong scent of new leather, and slightly rough feel of it against his tongue made him moan. He craned his neck, tongue licking stripes on the toecap, to look Enjolras in the eyes, and he watched as Enjolras swallowed hard, eyes fixed on Grantaire’s tongue. It was at once gratifying and embarrassing, the right sort of combo to make Grantaire’s skin feel warm and tight. He continued, straining in his spot to reach around the sides and back, up the cuff and around, sweeping his tongue along the leather and, when he was sure Enjolras was watching, glossed over the laces in a single quick movement.

The change of texture on his tongue made him squirm, but it was worth it to see the way Enjolras balled his hands up on his thighs, controlling his impulses.

“Can I do the other, Enjolras?” he asked, and it seemed to shake Enjolras out of the horny trace he was in, dazed expression giving way to hunger as he pressed a palm to the crotch of his pants.

“Of course. Did you think you could get away with only doing one? Sloppy, Grantaire. I’d assume someone who spends so much time on his knees would know better.”

It was extremely difficult to resist releasing his vice grip on his own wrist and stroking his exceptionally hard cock, and he applauded his own restraint. That was for later. He imagined the weight of Enjolras’s boot on his cock and shuddered.

Grantaire set his tongue to the other boot. It was damp with saliva and his chin rubbed the wet leather as he tongued towards the back. The leather smelled stronger wet and Grantaire had forgotten just how much he liked that until it was overwhelming his senses. He took his time, lavishing the boot with his tongue. The angle was awkward and his back and knees were beginning to ache but it was good, it was proof that he was serving, and Grantaire wanted to serve Enjolras.

Enjolras’s mouth must have been dry because Grantaire could hear him swallow. “Okay, it is _possible_ that your claims weren’t exaggerated. My boots look…adequate.”

“Just adequate, Enjolras?” Grantaire sat up slowly, back clicking, and licked his lips. “Want me to show you how well I do at cocksucking?”

Enjolras opened his arms in invitation. “Have at.”

Grantaire sized him up, considering Enjolras’s very closed zipper. His head felt a little muddled from leather and kneeling and _Enjolras_ , and he couldn’t entirely figure out how he was supposed to go about getting to Enjolras’s cock. “Can I have some assistance?”

Enjolras smirked. “Maybe use your teeth? Or is that too hard for an expert cocksucker like you?”

Grantaire shuddered. Jesus, he was going to have to ask Enjolras to be even meaner next time, because it went straight to his cock. “I’ll try my best not to disappoint.” He straightened up, brought his head to Enjolras’s crotch, and tried to grip the fabric above the button with his teeth. He pulled up, trying to navigate the button out of the hole, but it slipped out of his teeth. The pants, he thought, were just so fucking tight on Enjolras’s skin, which was extremely hot, but also meant there wasn’t a lot of loose fabric for Grantaire to work with. His second attempt went similarly. After four attempts, Grantaire lay his head against Enjolras crotch in defeat and started laughing uncontrollably. 

He felt Enjolras tense and was about to apologize when Enjolras started laughing, too. “Okay,” Enjolras said, words bubbling through the laughter. “Let’s try this again.”

Grantaire picked up his head, so Enjolras could unbutton and then unzip his fly and pull out his dick. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and the laughter died in Grantaire’s throat, replaced suddenly by a wave of want. Grantaire leaned forward giving Enjolras’s cock a long lick, then batted his eyelashes at Enjolras.

“Brat,” Enjolras growled. He tangled a fist in Grantaire’s hair and tugged it upwards until Grantaire was looking at him. “Green?”

Grantaire had to suck in a breath quickly, scalp tingling, and cock twitching against his stomach. “Green. Very, very green.”

“Good,” Enjolras said, and used his grip on Grantaire’s hair to pull Grantaire closer to his cock. “Now are you going to show me what you’ve got, or should I find another cocksucker who likes the taste of leather?”

Urged on by the hand in his hair, Grantaire swallows down Enjolras’s cock. It was not terribly thick, but a nice length and satisfying on Grantaire’s tongue and Grantaire wasn’t sure why he ever thought he could do this once and then give it up; he’s already addicted. He followed the cock down as far as he could, gagging slightly, but releasing his wrist to offer Enjolras a thumbs up when Enjolras tried to tug him backwards.

He worked his tongue against the underside, bobbing his head but letting Enjolras set the pace, dragging his head up and down and setting the nerves in scalp alight with sharp pain. When he felt the toe of Enjolras’s boot tap at the underside of his balls, a short sharp pain, he moaned and gave another thumbs up.

The next tap was harder, and Grantaire all but doubled over, choking himself on Enjolras’s cock. Enjolras pulled his cock free from Grantaire’s mouth, and Grantaire had just enough wherewithal too see how frantic Enjolras looked.

“Green,” Grantaire said hoarsely, licking his lips. He was pretty sure he had a dreamy look on his face, but he couldn’t seem to change it. Fair, after all, because he felt sort of dreamy. “Incredible amounts of green. Like, prairie amounts.”

Enjolras still looked hesitant. It warmed Grantaire that Enjolras was being so careful with him, even though it was part of his role in this scene. It probably spoke more of Enjolras’s discomfort as a dom than his care for Grantaire, but it made it easy to pretend, and deluding himself was one of Grantaire’s greatest skills. He’d have to put it on his resume. “You’re sure?”

Grantaire grinned, pushing past his dumb thoughts and focusing on Enjolras’s hard cock before him. “I would really like to choke some more on your dick and I’ve already told you where I’d like your boot.”

Enjolras grinned, renewing his grip on Grantaire’s hair, and hauling him back onto his dick. “Then you should get back to work.”

He waited until Grantaire was back in swing of it before he put his boot slowly down against Grantaire’s hard cock, treads resting from root to tip, and carefully increased the pressure, squeezing Grantaire’s cock against his stomach. Enjolras had him under his fucking shoe, and that image made Grantaire shake with want. Grantaire rolled his hips, dragging his cock against the rough rubber. It stung, the pull of rubber against his cock, but any friction at all felt amazing, and the pain was as much a draw as the feeling of Enjolras exerting control over him.

He gave Enjolras a thumbs up, watched Enjolras’s face as his eyes darted between Grantaire’s face and his thumb, following his gaze until it rested back on Grantaire’s face with an intense fixation that made Grantaire’s head spin. Enjolras began holding his head down longer, until Grantaire was sucking desperately between frantic breaths, holding his hands behind him and grinding furiously against the rubber soles. Grantaire was overheating, sweating and moaning as he moved between Enjolras’s cock and boot. A rock and a hard place, he thought, and snorted into Enjolras’s pubes.

Enjolras looked down at him with that hungry look in his eyes, which made Grantaire’s stomach clench. “Deep breath,” he said, and once Grantaire had, he tugged Grantaire’s head down hard onto his cock, taking it to the root.

Grantaire gagged, eyes watering, but he swallowed hard, trying to take Enjolras into his cock. His stomach tensed with every gag, forcing his cock hard against Enjolras’s shoe and he came hard, trying to drag a breath into his throat as he shook with his orgasm, throat clenching rhythmically around Enjolras’s cock, who came a moment later.

Grantaire pulled off, gasping, fuzzy with orgasm. He watched Enjolras panting, that hunger not gone from his face, and slowly, stupidly, bent down to lick his cum off the bottom of Enjolras’s boot, still holding his arms behind his back like a good boy.

He could hear Enjolras gasp and it went straight to his chest, making him feel warm and sort of drifty. He sat up when he had finished and swayed slightly.

“Hey,” Enjolras said, “let’s get you to the couch.”

Enjolras scooped him up, leading him to the couch, and Grantaire went, letting himself be wrapped in a blanket, and propped up against Enjolras. He slowly came back to himself, hearing Enjolras speaking but not really taking in his words. “S’good?” he asked, drowsily, when he felt like he could access his words again.

“Yeah,” Enjolras said, sounding amused. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Mhmm.” He had. He didn’t remember cumming that hard in ages, and the loss he could already feeling tingeing the experience ached. “And yourself?”

Enjolras sighed happily. “It was even better than I had imagined. You were amazing.”

The warmth settled back into Grantaire’s stomach. “You weren’t shabby yourself, Mr. Sudden Onset Dom Voice.”

Enjolras laughed, a little self deprecatingly, and Grantaire loved the sound. “Yes, well.” He chuckled again. “I tried. If it was too…camp, I can try something different next time?”

Grantaire shook his head. Enjolras wanted to this again. He could barely believe it. “No, I like your dom voice. It was great.”

“Oh.” Enjolras sounded honestly surprised. “Well, then.”

Grantaire cuddled deeper into his arms. It wasn’t the sort of scene that made him really floaty—he hated the term sub-space, but it did do a good job of describing the experience—but he was floaty enough that he was having trouble thinking deep thoughts.

He looked up at Enjolras, whose face seemed to be slowly moving towards his own. When Enjolras was only an inch away he asked, very quietly, “Can I kiss you?” and Grantaire’s stomach dropped.

Grantaire’s mind swung rapidly from floaty to dread and he sat up quickly, scooting across the couch from Enjolras. “Red. I—no, no, no, red.”

Enjolras stiffened, raising his hands in truce. “I don’t—what did I do?”

Grantaire shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts. His heart was racing suddenly and he felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. “I don’t need you to make this any more than it is. We can call it a one time fun thing, or we can keep doing this if you want, but you don’t have to pretend you want to date me to keep getting sex. I’d prefer, or no, insist that you don’t do that, in fact.”

Enjolras scoffed, and Grantaire wanted to cry, but he was too tired to try and remember how. “You know, when Courfeyrac told me I was going about this the wrong way I thought he out of his mind, but I guess I did. I’m sorry if I confused you, or somehow made you feel I wasn’t interested in you. I thought, since you seemed to brush off my attempts at getting to know you better, that it might be easier to use sex to bridge the gap. And then when you made that comment, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. I’m getting that that was a mistake.”

Grantaire’s pulse slowed down slowly, but he felt as though he could barely hear Enjolras over the pounding of his head. “I’m confused?”

“Grantaire, I’ve liked you for a long time. I want to kiss you, and take you out on dates, and keep doing scenes, and maybe try some vanilla sex, too. And I really hope that sounds amenable to you, but if it doesn’t, I understand.” Enjolras was wearing a brave face, but Grantaire had seen enough now to know it was a mask. He was sad or anxious or _something_ because he was worried Grantaire was going to say no to him. 

Grantaire’s breathing finally felt under control again, which was sort of a miracle. Enjolras did like him, and fuck if he wasn’t going make this dream happen for himself. “Okay. Okay. Green.”

Enjolras blinked at him slowly. “I’m sorry?”

Grantaire grinned, cautiously, and inched his way back towards Enjolras. “Green. Kiss me.”

Enjolras leaned in, and when their lips connected Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh. It was better than he had ever imagined.

**Author's Note:**

> im gabe racetrackthehiggins, please give me money and/or praise


End file.
